A Regency Christmas for My Love
By Linda Hays-Gibbs
“Oh, no! It cannot be. I can’t have lost both my parents. You must be mistaken.” Her whole body shook with tremors as she grabbed the door handle for support.
Constable Harris a gray-haired rotund man in his fifties swallowed hard and sputtered.
“I assure you Miss Grace that I would not tell you such a thing if I were not positive.”
The elder Constable looked at the vase above her right shoulder and shuffled his feet. He stood erect and unmoved except his eyes moistened.
“Constable Harris, please come into the parlor. I can’t believe it. This is so horrible. I have no one left. I cannot bear this.”
Her sobs accelerated and Constable Harris tried to console her. He gently patted her back with his large hands and gave her his less than pristine handkerchief.
“I am so sorry Miss Grace bringing you such news but there was no one else. Is there anything I can do for you Miss Grace?” His hands shook with the knowledge that this young girl was all alone. She seemed terribly pale and shaken and very young.
“No, just leave me. I will be all right.” She stood then shook her head and sat back down. “No, wait. Please tell me again. I just need to understand what has happened?”
“There was an accident with the carriage, Miss Grace. The horses rounded a corner on a dray and the carriage hit it full on. The snowfall from last night made everything slippery and it crashed. I again offer my condolences. It was quick Miss Grace. Please try and calm yourself.” He ran his fingers through his already tousled hair and swallowed nervously. He could not handle hysterical females. He darted his eyes toward the door.
“Thank you again Constable. I just can’t quite believe it.” Her back convulsed with sobs and her hands twisted the handkerchief into shreds. A blonde curl fell over left shoulder. Her pale yellow dress showed drops of tears a shade darker on her collar.
“It was nobody’s fault. Miss Grace, are you sure there is not someone I could get for you?” The Constable shifted again and nervously looked toward the door.
“No…I just…no. Please…I assure you. I am fine.” Victoria Grace rose from the settee and escorted the Constable from her parlor. She stumbled slightly. He reached for her but snatched his hands back in a jerk. She tried to hand the sodden handkerchief back to him but he declined it. Vicky closed the door and leaned back against the hard wood trying to feel any warmth from the hard gray planks. There was none. It had long ago evaporated on the cold wind. She stumbled back into the parlor and collapsed onto the settee again racked with sobs. Her world was over. How would she be able to carry on without her wonderful parents?
At just eighteen years of age, she was alone in the world. Her father was a penniless Baron who gambled away what meager rents his poor estate garnered and now he was gone. Her mother ran away from her family to marry for love and had promptly been disinherited. A very sheltered Vicky had only experienced her life with just mother, father, and herself. Their own little world, but it had been filled with love. They were her world. She had no world left. Her sobs grew in intensity as she ran to her bed.
A few days later, Vicky knew with the reading of the meager will that she had to find employment of some kind and soon. She was not trained in anything but to be a lady. That was not an occupation that paid. Her parent’s funeral had been a scanty affair served with what money she could find in the house. Her parents kept a small amount for deliveries and messengers in a chest beside their bed.
Vicky was trying to sort through her clothing to sell some of her gowns for food when there was a knock at
By Linda Hays-Gibbs
“Oh, no! It cannot be. I can’t have lost both my parents. You must be mistaken.” Her whole body shook with tremors as she grabbed the door handle for support.
Constable Harris a gray-haired rotund man in his fifties swallowed hard and sputtered.
“I assure you Miss Grace that I would not tell you such a thing if I were not positive.”
The elder Constable looked at the vase above her right shoulder and shuffled his feet. He stood erect and unmoved except his eyes moistened.
“Constable Harris, please come into the parlor. I can’t believe it. This is so horrible. I have no one left. I cannot bear this.”
Her sobs accelerated and Constable Harris tried to console her. He gently patted her back with his large hands and gave her his less than pristine handkerchief.
“I am so sorry Miss Grace bringing you such news but there was no one else. Is there anything I can do for you Miss Grace?” His hands shook with the knowledge that this young girl was all alone. She seemed terribly pale and shaken and very young.
“No, just leave me. I will be all right.” She stood then shook her head and sat back down. “No, wait. Please tell me again. I just need to understand what has happened?”
“There was an accident with the carriage, Miss Grace. The horses rounded a corner on a dray and the carriage hit it full on. The snowfall from last night made everything slippery and it crashed. I again offer my condolences. It was quick Miss Grace. Please try and calm yourself.” He ran his fingers through his already tousled hair and swallowed nervously. He could not handle hysterical females. He darted his eyes toward the door.
“Thank you again Constable. I just can’t quite believe it.” Her back convulsed with sobs and her hands twisted the handkerchief into shreds. A blonde curl fell over left shoulder. Her pale yellow dress showed drops of tears a shade darker on her collar.
“It was nobody’s fault. Miss Grace, are you sure there is not someone I could get for you?” The Constable shifted again and nervously looked toward the door.
“No…I just…no. Please…I assure you. I am fine.” Victoria Grace rose from the settee and escorted the Constable from her parlor. She stumbled slightly. He reached for her but snatched his hands back in a jerk. She tried to hand the sodden handkerchief back to him but he declined it. Vicky closed the door and leaned back against the hard wood trying to feel any warmth from the hard gray planks. There was none. It had long ago evaporated on the cold wind. She stumbled back into the parlor and collapsed onto the settee again racked with sobs. Her world was over. How would she be able to carry on without her wonderful parents?
At just eighteen years of age, she was alone in the world. Her father was a penniless Baron who gambled away what meager rents his poor estate garnered and now he was gone. Her mother ran away from her family to marry for love and had promptly been disinherited. A very sheltered Vicky had only experienced her life with just mother, father, and herself. Their own little world, but it had been filled with love. They were her world. She had no world left. Her sobs grew in intensity as she ran to her bed.
A few days later, Vicky knew with the reading of the meager will that she had to find employment of some kind and soon. She was not trained in anything but to be a lady. That was not an occupation that paid. Her parent’s funeral had been a scanty affair served with what money she could find in the house. Her parents kept a small amount for deliveries and messengers in a chest beside their bed.
Vicky was trying to sort through her clothing to sell some of her gowns for food when there was a knock at
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